


Chemistry?

by inthepouringrain



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Awkward Romance, Bisexual Male Character, Boyfriends, Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Panic, Homosexuality, Light Angst, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Male Protagonist, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Fiction, Our time, POV Male Character, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Real Life, References to Depression, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthepouringrain/pseuds/inthepouringrain
Summary: Sam is fine. In fact, he is completely fine. As long as he'd left to his own devices, all is well. The last thing he feels like doing one afternoon is showing the new prospective tenant around the spare room in his house, but fate wills it so. Charlie very suddenly ended up without a place to live, and he's desperate for a roof over his head. For reasons that are beyond him and to everyone's surprise including his own, Sam takes a liking to Charlie. Perhaps he quite enjoyed the brief venture outside his comfort zone, or perhaps it's just chemistry.





	Chemistry?

“Seriously, you couldn’t bother with jeans?” Jamie’s voice entered the kitchen along with herself, distracting Sam from his thoughts. It wasn’t like this particular train of thought had been all too interesting; he’d spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out whether it was worth going out for a smoke in a snowstorm. 

He looked up to see his friend’s concerned face. “Morning to you too, sunshine.” 

“It’s half one.” She quite literally masked some of her stern expression by pulling a beanie deep over her red curls, but what wasn’t visible was still audible. 

Sam checked the wall clock. “Or so it is. I’m well on time then, this guy’s coming over at two, right?” If he’s even still coming, he thought. A few days ago it had started sleeting, and the weather had quickly turned to a proper snowstorm, icy streets and bitter cold and all. This didn’t give the university a good enough reason to be lenient, which was why Jamie and the other housemates were still forced to sit exams and attend classes as they’d been scheduled, leaving Sam the only one home to show the mysterious prospective tenant around. 

“Yeah, he is. He probably needs this room more than you need that cigarette, so be nice, okay?” After a decade he still didn’t know how Jamie did it, but it was quite nice not to have to spell everything out. 

“You read me like a book. Besides, I’m always nice,” he lied. “As for your comment about the jeans; if this guy can’t handle seeing me in pyjamas he really shouldn’t live in this house.” 

Jamie sighed and zipped up her coat. “You’re probably right about that actually,” she admitted hesitantly. 

“Exactly. It’ll be fine, really.” That was possibly also a lie, Sam didn’t know if anything was going to be fine or not. He’d expressed enough how he didn’t feel like doing this in the slightest, so much so that Jamie had floated the idea of just staying home and waiting for the resit opportunity for her History of Modern Science exam. This, Sam realised full well, was ridiculous, so he’d dialled down the complaining and tried to reassure her that he’d do a good job of promoting the house while also casually scrutinising the applicant. Given the assignment, he understood why she was worried. 

“I really hope so. We need to get someone in that room, preferably before the rent is due.” 

“Right, yes, money. So I should give him till the 25th to think about it?” He shrugged. The slight rent increase wouldn’t have been such a problem, but the rest had insisted on rushing the roommate search. 

“That sounds reasonable.” Jamie flung her backpack over her shoulder with some difficulty caused by the layers of fabric. “I’ve got to go so I don’t miss the exam. Please be nice to this guy.”

“I’ll be perfectly nice.” He looked his friend in the eye. “Be careful out there,” he bid, referring to the blizzard. “I don’t want to have to look for a second new roommate.” 

“It’s not the weather I’m worried about, this exam might actually do me in.” 

“Ah, you’ll be great,” Sam reassured her, this time meaning every word of it. “When you’ve graduated with a first this’ll seem like it was nothing.” With that, he put on some trainers and a coat and followed her out the back door, immediately dashing for the cover of the garden shed. “Good luck!” he called out after her as she disappeared into the snowstorm. 

Sam lit up and pondered, two of his favourite activities, even though he knew full well he shouldn’t smoke or worry too much. The first drag of deadly goodness provided the kind of inner quiet he hadn’t been able to find elsewhere yet, the second drag a mental clarity that he vaguely remembered being a given, a constant, before all this shit went down. Why it bothered him so much, having to show around this guy, he didn’t know. It wasn’t going to take more than twenty minutes or so, and after he could just go back to doing whatever he’d been doing before. What had he even been doing before? Not sleeping, in any case. 

He probably looked quite dreadful, if the outside somewhat represented the inside. Like a zombie, some nerd cooped up in his room all day. Running his free hand through his wavy hair did something to neaten it, but he could still feel the headache that held up around his eyes, which was usually a good indicator of dark circles. He put out the cigarette and went back inside, hung his coat on the peg and watched the snow melt onto the floor of the hall for a moment. He attempted to undo his hair of some of the snow it had accumulated and left his shoes by the radiator to dry. It was ten to. The doorbell rang. Once more unto the breech, Sam told himself. What a weird thing to tell yourself, who was even really their own friend? Perhaps the smiling people on the flyers in the therapist’s office, they looked like they liked themselves all right. After all, that was the whole point. 

Sam opened the door, reminding himself that on the other side was just a person, and this was just a room showing, and that it was all going to be fine. 

“Hi, I’m here about the room…” 

“Yeah, of course,” he replied hastily as he took a step back to let the man in. “Come in,” he followed up arbitrarily. 

Sam stood around for the longest few seconds of his life, trying to get a look at this stranger in his hallway without actually looking so much that he might give the impression he was staring. Staring usually wasn’t appreciated. He noticed the ink black hair, cheeks red from the cold, glasses fogged up and speckled with drops of melting snow. 

“I spoke to Jamie online-”

“I’m Sam, by the way-” They started and stopped at the same time, filling the narrow hallway with the awkward tension of a failed conversation start. “Yes, Jamie,” Sam continued. After all, he was supposed to take the lead on this thing. Couldn’t leave this guy to show himself around their house. “She couldn’t be here, exams. Sorry about that, it’s just me.” 

“No that’s, eh, that’s fine. I’m glad I could come over at such short notice. I’m Charlie.” The not-anymore-stranger stuck out a hand, which Sam shook, obviously. Cold fingers, colder than his own. Probably because of the weather, he figured. It was a good handshake. Not too long, not too firm or too weak. Charlie was a bit taller than himself, but in no way intimidating. It would have been stupid to be intimidated anyway, it wasn’t like they were competing over a woman or something. Same entertained the thought for a split second, just because of how ridiculous it was. 

“Come on in, sit down. Can I get you something to drink?” He led Charlie into the kitchen and flicked the switch to turn the kettle on as he passed by it.

“Actually tea would be amazing, thank you.” 

Because the statement didn’t need much analysing, he got a chance to listen to more than the words. Charlie was English, without a doubt. From the South, he got that much, southeast, maybe. That was as close as he could pinpoint it. He wondered why he’d expected someone from Scotland, after all easily half of the fellow students he’d met at St Andrews weren’t actually Scottish. 

“Here you go.” Sam put the mug down on the table next to Charlie’s glasses, which were temporarily rendered useless by the water on them. What now, he wondered as he sat down. At some point very soon this would get awkward. 

“Thanks so much.” He watched Charlie close his hands around the cup. “So I should probably tell you something about myself, right?” 

Not a bad idea, actually. Sam smiled, hoping it looked encouraging rather than weird. 

“So yeah, I’m Charlie. I’m in the final year of English Literature here at the uni. Not really one for sports. I like to read, that’s kind of a given. Cook, too. Honestly I haven’t had the time for much in the way of hobbies lately; apparently writing a thesis takes quite a bit of work.” He chuckled before taking a sip of tea. “So you’re all students as well, right? I recall Jamie said so.” 

“Almost all,” Sam corrected. “Jamie’s also in the last year, but she does history. Her room is the one at the front downstairs. Then there’s Elle, she does psychology. She’s on the first floor, but you probably won’t see her that much; she’s always out. Up in the attic we’ve got Mike, he used to study but he dropped out a few years ago. Works as a bartender now, so he’s pretty much nocturnal. I’m on the second floor, opposite the room that’s free, and I study theoretical physics. Nowhere near done though.” Not bad, he’d managed to come up with a version of that fact that wasn’t a blatant lie or an unnecessarily honest declaration of depression. “So yeah, that’s that. The rent’s as listed in the ad. Includes utilities, internet, tv, washing machine, all that sort of stuff. We don’t really have the mandatory social stuff, but people usually get together for dinner a few times a week at least. But if that’s not your thing that’s no problem.” It’s not really my thing either. “Kitchen and bathroom are shared but all the rooms have a tap and sink. Mike’s got a hob and a fridge up in the attic, so he doesn’t use the kitchen much. We’ve got pans and kitchen stuff for days, but if you have your own by any means bring it.” 

“I don’t actually, so that’s great. Saves me a trip to the store.” 

Wait, this guy didn’t have plates or pans? Being in the final year of his course, he’d have lived here for a few years already. That was odd, least to say. Sam decided he’d pry later.   
“So you probably actually want to see the room.” He got up and led the way out of the kitchen ad up the stairs, looking back to make sure Charlie was following. On the first floor he opened the bathroom door, allowing a look in. Every surface shone brighter than it ever had in the three and a half years Sam had lived in this house, probably at the hands of Jamie.

“Looks great, yeah.” 

Figuring there wasn’t much more to say about a bathroom, he closed the door and proceeded on up to the second floor, where he opened the door to the empty room. “There you go.”   
He stayed back and watched Charlie step into the empty room, hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and wondered if he should explain the self-explanatory. The sink, floor, blackout curtains, central heating, it didn’t really need pointing out, did it? “It’s about fifteen meters squared, I believe. Take a few days to think about it, if you want.” 

“Actually, about that,” Charlie turned around. “When could I move in? In case I take it.” 

Shit, Jamie hadn’t gotten that far with her instructions. “Eh, I’m not sure. Probably as soon as   
you like, honestly.” 

“Seriously? Ah, that’s brilliant, I really badly need a place to live.” 

So he didn’t have any stuff and he needed to move in straight away. Damn, Jamie was going to be pissed if this guy would turn out to be a drug dealer and Sam allowed him to move in. So pissed. Though he didn’t look like a drug dealer, nor like any other kind of shady person. He looked, well, like an English student who likes to cook. Besides, what drug dealer wore cable knit jumpers and glasses and mittens? Mittens, for god’s sake. No, this guy was fine. 

“Are you sure you don’t need a while to think about it?” Sam asked, just to make sure. Shady backstory or not, it was weird for anyone to accept a room half a minute after seeing it for the first time. 

Charlie followed him downstairs. “I probably should do, but the sooner I can get out of my current place the better honestly.” Right, house trouble. That happened, that made sense. 

“If you’re sure,” he shrugged. “The landlord sent over a copy of the rental contract. I think I’ll need that and a copy of some form of ID, ‘cause that’s what I had to submit when I moved in.” 

“Oh right, yeah, I’ll sort that out. Can I take the contract with and give it a read?”

Sam laughed. “That’s usually what people do with contracts right?”

“Right.” 

“Just bring it signed when you move in, I’m sure that’s fine. The landlord’s pretty chill, I’ve actually only seen him a few times; he lives further up, in Aberdeen or something, and never bothers coming down here. As long as he gets the rent he’s pretty happy. Do you want more tea?”

“I should probably get going, packing and such to do.” Charlie didn’t seem all too happy about this fact, he noticed. But then again, people who had to move out of their place at short notice usually weren’t happy about that. 

“Are you sure?” Sam nodded towards the kitchen window, a raging snowstorm on the other side of it. The weather he’d contemplated going out for a smoke in earlier had been nothing compared to this. He could barely see as far as the shed. 

“Fuck,” was all Charlie had to say. Right after, his eyes went wide. “Wow, sorry! I shouldn’t curse. You’re not, like, religious or something right?” Heh, safe bet. Religious physicists did exist, but they were few and far between. 

“Nah, don’t worry,” Sam reassured him. “God is a cluster of neurons anyway.” 

Charlie frowned for a moment. Had that been too rough a joke? It was a quote, from a relatively well-known book, but maybe it was too obscure, too weird. “That was Crake, right? From Oryx & Crake?” he asked after a while.

He actually got it, Sam thought. “Yeah, I just finished the book. Have you read it?” he asked casually, realising full well it was a stupid question; if he knew to identify an isolated quote from one of the 400-odd pages, he would’ve read the book. 

“Wrote an essay on it last year, actually.” 

Sam flipped the kettle on and looked over. “Wow, that is so cool, Charlie. Did you want tea?” 

The other man turned around to take a quick look out the window and sat down. “Actually I’d love some.” 

“Cool, and then tell me all about that essay, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the book since I finished it.” 

They sat and drank and chatted, and Sam found himself actually having somewhat of a good time. They talked literature and he told Charlie some more about the people he’d be living with. It was one of those conversations that you might dread having until you have it, and notice somewhere halfway through that you’re actually quite enjoying yourself. By the time the mugs of tea had been emptied, Sam was almost glad Jamie had gotten him to do this. Almost. 

Charlie left a while later with a copy of the rental contract and, it appeared, a slightly better mood. Jamie came home and found Sam in the garden having a smoke not too long after. 

“So how did it go?” she greeted straight to the point as always. 

“Pretty good.” He took a drag and waited a second before continuing. “He’s got good taste in books and he’s definitely not a drug dealer. He’s moving in later this week.” 

“What?!” 

“Not good? You said you wanted someone in the room before the end of the month.” Sam realised full well that it was a bit of a mean move, but he took some pleasure out of pulling his friend’s leg. 

“No it’s good. I’m just surprised.” 

Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Doubting my impeccable people skills?” After taking a last hit, he put out the cigarette and followed her inside. “In all seriousness, he seemed really nice. Liked the room all right. Was very polite. Likes to cook apparently, and that didn’t sound like a blatant lie, like if I’d have said it. I got the feeling he was really badly in need of a place to live because he said he was really badly in need of a place to live, though I didn’t find out why. Prying is bad right?” 

Jamie wordlessly took off her coat, scarf, gloves, hat, so he figured he could go on. 

“So yeah, I figured I’d say it was fine. Gave him the copy of the contract to take home and read over and told him to bring it back signed when he comes to move himself in.” 

“Copy of his ID?” 

“Even thought of that. I did so good; if physics doesn’t work out I’ll become a realtor,” he concluded, completely deadpan. 

“God forbid. Thanks though, for doing this.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not a big deal.” It was a big deal. “How did your exam go?” 

Sam zoned out a bit while Jamie went on about how she wasn’t sure if she’d gotten a few minor details right; it was always like that with her, and as always she’d probably end up scoring at least 70%. When he studied, Sam was serious about it, but he’d never had so much concern about grades and performance. The bulk of the worrying was about the fact that he’d done exactly nothing so far this academic year. Today though, that concern was pushed a bit further into the back of his mind. He’d helped out a friend, one who always helped him out with everything, and he’d interacted like a normal human being with another normal human being. The whole ordeal made him feel quite hopeful. It suggested that he wasn’t a complete failure yet, and sometimes it was nice to be reminded of those things.


End file.
